Plagues in the Planes

Shadow from the past - The Black Rose
... the feywild is lost to me... I am forgotten...

Three weeks after the destruction of the portal, repairs are coming along well in the city of Tordek. Things are slowly returning to a state of normality, though for generations to come the people of this city will be marked by the events that transpired.

Alistair, with the aid of Thraxus, convinced the rest of the party to lend a helping hand with the repairs. Tarrasol has even been training some new guardsmen, with Thrax overseeing. On the 25th day since the demons were driven back, Alistair has taken a break from directing repairs on the library. He has come, at Tarrasols request to give the new recruits a bit of a show. Haunt and Moloch arrive late to catch the end of a friendly duel.

Haunt spots a figure spying from a nearby rooftop and climbs up to investigate. When he reaches the roof no one is in sight but a small wooden carving of an eladrin holding a sword in triumph is left on the ground near some wood shavings.

Back in the courtyard the rookies are amazed at the swordsmanship and applaud each time Alistair escapes Tarrasols swirling net of blade and shield using his teleportation powers

The day wanes and evening approaches. Even after so much destruction twilight in the Vale has a certain beauty to it. The Guardsmen say their farewells for the night as you depart for the Auburn Raven. Where you have been staying these past few weeks. The thought of some of Old Sandy’s Hotpot Stew makes your stomach growl. Not to mention the thought of Old Sandy’s daughter serving it to you making other parts of you growl.

You walk through a part of town that was hit hardest by the demonic onslaught. The streets are as quiet as the grave. Ahead Haunt sees a small object in the centre of the road. Tarrasol investigates and calls back that he has found a dagger with a black rose bound to it with chord.

Alistair immediately draws his longsword and asks Tarrasol if he is sure the rose is black, which Tarrasol confirms. Before Alistair can give any more warning a black robbed figure appears on a nearby roof top and blue light shines from the end of a wand he is wielding. Haunt and Moloch had spotted him as before he cast his spell and quickly launch spell and dagger at him. The black clothed assassin finishes his spell and launches a blue orb of light at Tarrasol, which sends flashes of pain through his muscles and teleports him further away from the party into a the ankle deep water of a nearby fountain.

More assassins in black appear from various alleyways and a large panther charges Haunt, knocking him to he ground before darting away.

Thrax: “Hit and Run tactics! Be careful!”

To confirm Thraxus fears, another black clothed figure darts out from behind a wall. He alternates between running on two feet and leaping over obstacles using all four limbs like a cat. He charges Moloch who stands alone behind the rest of the party. At the last second he darts to the right and steps around Moloch swiping twice with Claw shaped Katars attached to his wrists.

Alistair recognises this assassin from rumours he had heard when he was a soldier in the city of Kanthyr within the Feywild Realm. He is Neith and he is dangerous.

These assassins are The Black Flowers, likely sent by The Raven Prince.

Alistair has not forgotten the hatred of the so called Raven Prince, obviously he hasn’t forgotten Alistair either.

Two eldritch knights, cloaked in chainmail and glowing moonlike step out from behind the rubble and engage their targets. One points its sword at Alistair and speaks an eladrin insult, and the other repeats the gesture at Tarrasol.

Though Tarrasol doesn’t understand the insult, he recognises a challenge when he sees one, and he moves quickly to intercept. He takes a swing, cutting through the chain on one arm, and leaving a bloody gash behind. He then follows up the swing with a series of attacks. The fey knight calls for help, and as if from a wind, its eldritch sorcerer springs from the building to immobilise Tarrasol with a spell.

Alistair is faring just as well. He had intended to fight Neith toe-to-toe, but with this enemy marking him, he decides to fight this battle first. The eldritch knight summons up a green energy on its sword, and slashes Alistair across the face, restraining him with binds of magic. As he becomes restrained, Neith orders his panther to charge into the fray. The panther pounces on Alistair, and leaves with blood on its teeth.

Seeing his enemy is wavering, Alistair turns full force of command onto the knight. “Run away now, or I will kill you,” he promises, the green of the restraint giving his eyes an evil glow. The foe stumbles back and falls to the ground. Alistair swings around and looks at the panther, pointing his ring at it. “Bad kitty!” He calls to it, weakening its resolve.

In the middle of the courtyard, meanwhile, Haunt finds himself fighting off Neith, and discovers his agility easily matched. He lashes out once or twice, and springs in with a handspring, kicking Neith in the face, and taking advantage of the momentary stunned eladrin by stabbing him. The dagger sinks in, and leaves a gash where it went in.

Tarrasol finally gets sick of the enemy, and calls out “Come and get me!”, drawing them all in as he swings with sword and shield in a hurricane whirlwind, cutting into them all. He charges at the eldritch sorcerer, slaying him, then turns and charges the knight who is hiding behind a box. A giant dragonborn charging would scare anyone, and this is no different. As the knight turns to leave, Tarrasol kicks the box into splinters over his back, then slashes at the downed enemy.

Neith sees the battle turning against him, and charges Alistair, hoping to at least take out his target. Alistair responds, seeing a weak point and stabbing Neith in his armpit, leaving that arm hanging limp. Alistair’s armour reaches out in a combination of cold and necrotic energies and turns that arm blue with frost and rot. The same frosty armour extends icicles into the air, freezing the other knight solid.

Seeing himself surrounded by enemies, and feeling much the worst for ware, Alistair calls out to Neith, “come and get me!” Then spins around in a whirl. The foes get a brief glimpse of the feywild as Alistair summons its fey energies and vanishes into it, lashing out and immobilising them.

Through a combination of Moloch’s fiery death spells, and Haunt’s springing stabs, the panther and other knight are taken down. Neith is the only one who remains. He draws on his own fey might and cancels the immobilisation, chasing after Alistair. As he swings for the deathblow, Alistair lashes out again, stabbing him beneath his other armpit. The attack hits, and Alistair attacks again, cutting across Neith’s face, then vanishing in a misty step to atop a nearby roof. He leaves behind only the winter’s chill on the ground.

“Don’t kill him,” Alistair calls out, as Haunt moves in to finish the job. Neith looks like he’s about to run. A combination of dragon breaths, magic, and stabs finishes him off.


The battle is over. Alistair explains about the Black Flowers, an elite assassin organisation dedicated to the Raven Prince. He drags Neith’s unconscious form over to the fountain and dunks him in until he wakes. Then, staring into the panther assassin’s very soul and holding a sword to his throat, the eldritch warlock asks a few questions.

The questions he asks are hidden from his friends, as question and answer are asked in elven. When he is done, and the fire has gone from his eyes, Alistair asks one final question. Neith’s face hardens in resolve. “We will keep coming until you are dead.”

Neith smiles. Both eladrin disappear as Neith attempts to fey step away. Alistair is prepared for this though, and the eladrin appear twenty feet away, Alistair’s blade through Neith’s neck, and an expression of shock on the assassin’s neck.

“Awwww, I wanted to ask him a question too,” Haunt complains, moving to loot the body. “Oh well… oh hey, a little panther!” He holds up his find: a wooden sculpture of a panther. “I bet this is how he summoned it.”

Alistair frowns. “I didn’t want to kill him, but he was going to keep coming until we finally did. That one can go though,” he points to the eldritch knight, who had begun to thaw.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Tarrasol asks. “They don’t know the assassination failed. If he returns, he’ll tell them.”

“They’ll know it failed if Neith doesn’t return. Besides, I want them to fear me.” He grabs the eldritch knight by a frozen arm and stares him hard in the eyes. “You will go back to the Raven Prince,” he says in elven, “and tell him I’m coming for him. And if I see you again, I will kill you.”

The knight stares back, the fear of Khirad in his eyes, and hobbles off as fast as he can.

“How will he get back to the feywild though?” Haunt asks.

“He will,” Alistair says, looking off after the eladrin. “Don’t worry about it, he will.”

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Tordek - She's the Devil
She doesn't look evil...

The party transport through the portal to safety… or so it seems. It is pitch black, cold and wet and they can’t breath. They are underwater. By the guide of Moloch’s light spell on his staff they find their way to the surface and realise they are in the Torog Torture chamber section of the dungeon… but when? The past? The Present? The Future?

They make their way down some stairs and find themselves in the room they first found Thrax dead in. This time his body isn’t there, so the living party member Thrax begins to worry that he will soon be playing that part himself.

A woman is crying in the centre of the room over a dead mans body. Tarrasol remembers the words his double said to himself. “Don’t trust her”... he approaches cautiously, questioning the woman. Haunt sneaks around a statue to the right, Moloch Alistair and Thrax hang back.

The woman transforms into a succubus and dominates Tarrasols mind. Haunt launches a crossbow bolt at her striking her before she can plant a spell on Tarrasol with a kiss. Moloch summons a ball of radiant energy to sear the vile she-devil. The succubus finally plants her kiss and Tarrasol is bound to her, unable to attack her and more than happy to step in the way of any bolt or blade that comes to harm her. Soon a Bladeling and Imp enter the battle. The Bladeling fires a long bow from the back of the room while the Imp came out of a nearby pit and attacked Moloch by surprise. Haunt reacts quickly a flanks the Imp, striking a deadly blow. The small winged creature nearly hits the roof from shock and pain when Haunts short sword pierces it’s devil flesh.

Thrax steps forward to help Tarrasol deal with the Succubus but is surprised when Tarrasol turns on him at the command of the succubus and thrusts his lightning sword through his side. The Succubus belives she has the fight won and releases Tarrasol from his domination so that he may feel the grief fully at what he has done, though she still controls his will enough to stop him from attacking her.

His fury overflows and with not other target he directs his rage at the bladeling, slashing and hacking at it repeatedly. Fearing for it’s life it disobeys the Succubus’ orders and attacks Tarrasol, breaking the remainder of the spell in the process. Free from her charms Tarrasol aided by Haunt slay the Bladeling and focus their efforts on the Succubus. She is quickly slain, nothing more than a crumpled heap on the cold stone floor.

With all five members of the party alive, though somewhat injured, things seem to be going better for the heroes than for the doubles who seemed to have walked this path in another time line.

Next the final battle with the Demon Captain who is summoning the Demon lords through the portal. But the party wonders will it survive or will they be overcome with their final vision before death the sight of themselves from an earlier timeline entering the portal room to repeated the cycle all over again…

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Tordek - Beginning of the End
Enter the dungeon of doom...

The party enter the dungeons below Tordek once more, but things have changed. The portals linked to the astral sea and elemental chaos are warping the city of Tordek and The Grey Vale region.

Curuvar is seperated from the party and taken deeper into the dungeon by demon soldiers. After navigating fissures spewing acid jets from the earth and defeating many spiked and spined demonic creatures the party come across a puzzling sight. They body of Thraxus lays dead on the floor in the dungeon room they have just entered, but Thrax also stands alive right next to them and hasn’t left their sight in what feels like days.

The body on the ground is scarred by a recent battle, the fatal wound being what looks like something beteen a sword thrust and a lightning bolt to the chest. The sounds of battle spur the party on to the next room where they find more unbelievable sights. The other four members of the party find doubles of themselves in this room fighting a horde of demons, and Curuvar stands magically bound to a giant portal. By the time the heroes can act only the Tarrasol double remains alive. Having just dispatched the last demon the party is full of questions but there is no time, the portal rips open and a demon lord bursts through followed by huge burning elemental creatures.

The demon lord is too powerful for the party, but the Tarrasol double steps forward to block it’s path giving the party time to escape through a portal Curuvar created. As they are about to step through the strange Tarrasol tells Thrax that he is sorry and turns to the parties Tarrasol and says: “Don’t trust her..”

They dive through the portal, Tarrasol last of all, turning back to see Curuvar stand alone against the demonic giants as his own the Tarrasol Prophet is cut down by the Demon Lord.

Is this a vision of his future, will he soon live it from the other point of view… the thought brings a shudder to him… and then darkness…

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The Vale goes to Hell...
Out of the portal... into the abyss.

You travel back to Suun, where Curuvar The Wizard awaits you. Together you open a portal back to Tordeks vale in order to seal the gateway to the evil place beneath Tordeks Vale.

Upon arriving at Tordeks Vale you find the city burning and a war of demons, angels and men raging about you. You avoid any major skirmishes by navigating the city cautiously to the old Night Cats den. You join some guardsmen who are in a fight with some spawn of the abyss. Carnage demons with a bloodlust are wreaking havoc and stand in the way of your quest.

A few clashes of sword, claw and arcane might later and the demons lay dead at your feet, while the dark doorway of the nightcats den stand open before you.

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The Odd Couple
The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

You are escorted to the feywild ruins portal by wood elves.

While trekking back to Sune, you run into an injured Orc of the Many Arrows clan, named Knuckles. He is accompanied by his companion Bulldor, the Dwarf. They are running from a small hunting party of Orcs of Gruumsh.

The Knuckles and Bulldor hide and you kill the orc scouts. But as soon as you have caught your breath you hear a much larger Orc host approaching. A chase begins through the wilds of Whitewood and you outrun the Orcs and make it across the river to some ruins at the foot of the mountains north west of White Wood.

You stand and fight the host of over 40 Orcs from atop a defended postion within the ruins, thus allowing Knuckles and Bulldor to escape into the hills. Before departing they said they would not forget what you had done for them.

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Rasscorthax the Magic Dragon...
...lives in the forest.

You meet an amazing and beautiful creature. A dragon, the very essence of magic and wonder. And you kill it. Dead.

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Band of Sisters

This is the one where the hag attacks us, then the band of five other women appear and challenge us. Just as things look like they might be going our way, a dragon appears and tricks us into giving her the crystal. (Infuriating, because personally I knew dragons were tricky creatures, but Moloch couldn’t roll Arcana high enough, and Alistair was unconscious.) She tries to send us to the abyss, but we get sent to her lair instead. While Haunt begins filling his bag of holding with gold and gems, we find a magical font of power that restores our health. Alistair drinks too deeply and is knocked out again.

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Lady in the Forest
Wet and Feywild

“To the lab!” Curuvar The Wizard shouted, running off down the street.

The party glanced at each other, confused as to what action to take next. Haunt shrugged. “To the lab!” He said, echoing the wizard mockingly, and rushed off after the old geezer.

They arrived at the doorway to what was obviously a wizard’s laboratory. It looked plain enough to be a library, but exuded a magical aura. Not that libraries didn’t. They were pretty magical places actually. They entered the lab, prepared for anything, and found the wizard rummaging through piles of paperwork, frantically looking for something.

“Oh no!” He shouted. “It’s gone! They’ve taken it!”

The others looked at each other, mystified. The room was a mess, and looked like it had been attacked by thieves. The wizard had added his own mess to it in his searches, but nothing had turned up from them apparently. “What’s gone?” Tarrasol asked.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand,” he said, depressed. “Or maybe you would. A little while ago, while I was researching the Spellplague, my researches led me to a location of planar magic which was just the opposite of magical.” Everyone looked confused. “It was an absence of magic, an absence of spaaaace.” His cheeks dropped into a frown. Worry marks crossed his forehead. “I was able to build an artefact that harnessed that energy: one that could create portals at will. But it is gone.”

“So when the goblin said they were looking for the ‘key’ for ‘her’,” Moloch said, “this must have been what he meant.”

“You fool!” Donn said. “You brought this down upon our town.”

“But how could I know? I…” He cut off as his hand brushed against something, dropping it to the floor with a hollow thunk. “What is… but… oh we are saved!” He bent down and picked up something that looked a lot like a rock.

“That looks a lot like a rock,” Alistair said.

“No, you see this is the focus crystal for the key. Without it, the key cannot be controlled, it is a mere stick. Well, a stick that could send you to any place or plane in the world at random. Without the crystal the one who uses it could accidentally open a portal of any size to anywhere. Oh but you must return the crystal to me.” Then to Donn, “They will surely return for this.”

“Then we should destroy it,” the guardsman said simply. Curuvar’s face blanched.

“Or we could go get the key back,” Tarrasol said. “This key looks like our only chance to close the portal in Tordek’s Vale.”

Twenty minutes later, the party was ready and prepared to go. Curuvar had scried on the location of the key and discovered it far to the north, in some old Elven ruins. An Old Crone referred to as “The Wise Woman” was called in for advice, and she suggested that they bring the focus crystal, despite the risks of it falling into the wrong hands. They would surely fail without it.

As they were leaving the town, Donn brought forwards the small goblin they had found before. “What should we do with him?” He asked.

“Throw him in prison or something,” Tarrasol said.

“But many guards were lost today,” Alistair said. “They will want revenge. I would not want to be this goblin in that case.” The goblin paled, squirming. Alistair bent down to look him full in the eyes. “Will you ever be returning to this town?” He asked.

The goblin shook his head violently. “No, never ever ever ever, ever sirs.”

“Good,” the warlock said. “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to go south into the forest, and never come back. If I ever see you again, I will kill you on sight. Okay?” The goblin nodded. “Isn’t that right?” Alistair asked, turning to Donn. “You do not want the blood of an innocent goblin on your hands, and it will solve nothing. Trust me, you don’t want that blemish on your soul.”

“Very well,” Donn said hesitantly. “We’ll release him to the south. Good luck on your journey, we will send some horses with you for the first part, until it becomes too difficult for them to journey further.”

And it soon became aparent just how difficult “too difficult for them to journey further” was. The mountains were rugged, and having set off at just the wrong time of year for this journey, the Rogue Wolves were poorly equipped. They forgot about the Stonemeal Biscuits they had received from Curuvar, and failed to eat them, even when their stomachs got to their heads.

The storms threatened to blow them down the mountain, but they could feel the keystone throb as it gained on its other half. At last, after a difficult trip through a freezing river, and over a mountaintop, they arrived at an old Elven ruin. They sighed a collective relief. But there was no sign of their quarry.

Being careful not to disturb anything, they approached the ruins, finding a pool of water unfrozen despite the cold climate. “That’s weird,” Thrax said, testing the water. “It’s still warm.” They all ducked a finger into it and agreed. It was weird. Magic throbbed in the air.

Alistair pulled out the keystone. “Hey, look at this,” he held it up. “The stone’s gone completely transparent. I can see you guys through it! Woah…” he just caught something out of the corner of his eye. Looking closer at it, he saw nothing, until he brought the stone up to his eye again. Within the pool of water, a reflection stood out, but it was not one of a destroyed ruin: it was a springtime forest. The feywild.

The Rogue Wolves experimented with the stone and the pool, while Thrax and Alistair sought clues elsewhere: journeying to the top of a nearby tower. They found nothing. It was not until Tarrasol dropped a stick into the pool of water that they discovered its true nature. It was one of those fabled portals to the feywild.

“We should go through,” Tarrasol said, once Thrax and Alistair had rejoined them.

“Fine,” Alistair said, “I’ll try and get through. If I end up stuck in the feywild, I’m gonna be really angry though.” He took a deep breath, and fey stepped into the pool. Above on the surface, water bubbled up as it displaced to let him in. He felt nothing, then dropped to the bottom, and the world flipped upside down. The wind was knocked out of him and he struggled for breath. Coming to the surface, Alistair was surprised to find himself in the feywild. He dragged himself to the surface, and waved an okay to the other side.

A minute later, Moloch appeared in the pool. “Looks like we’ve found a portal,” he said cheerfully. Alistair’s mood was dark.

“I’m going back,” the warlock said. “I’ll tell them what we’ve found.” And he jumped in, just as Tarrasol was about to leap in on the other side.

“Woah!” The dragonborn said, surprised. “So we found a portal! Let’s go!” It seemed to be just the kind of adventure the fighter was after.

“It’s not that simple,” Alistair said. “I can’t follow you in there.”

“What? Why not?” Thrax asked. “Aren’t you from the feywild?”

Exiled from the feywild, more likely,” Alistair said, then explained his story briefly. “I was a nobleman of the feywild city of Kanthyr, head of the guard actually. Anyways, in my time I uncovered a plot against my queen by her second-born son. I revealed that knowledge, but her son, the ‘raven prince’ covered it up. I was exiled.”

“It must have been a while ago, I’m sure they’ve forgiven you,” Thrax said.

“It’s not forgiveness I’m worried about. It was the Raven Prince’s followers who threw me into the mortal realm, into a blizzard not unlike the one which is about to befall these ruins. He meant to kill me. If he ever found out I was still alive, he would undoubtedly finish the job. Besides which, the order is to kill me on sight here. It’s not safe.”

“Well, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Thrax said. “They’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

“And me too!” Tarrasol agreed. “So, ready to go home?”

Alistair nodded hesitantly, “Okay, let’s go.” He followed them in, and soon they were all on the other side. In the jungle. With no Moloch anywhere.

“Guys?” Came the wizard’s call from above them. “Guys?” They looked up and found him dangling from a vine. “A little help here?”

Haunt started to laugh, but cut short as the laugh turned to a cackle and he realised that it wasn’t him who was cackling. The wise woman from the village approached. “Kekekekeke, fools!” She said. “You fell straight into my trap! And with the crystal too.”

“I knew it!” Tarrasol said, preparing to fight.

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Just Let Us Drink Already!
On the way to the tavern, the party becomes distracted.

“At last,” Alistair sighs to Tarrasol as they approach Suun from the west. “A town that won’t have any quests for us whatsoever. We can just find the wizard, relax, maybe have a couple of pints, and then get back to Tordek’s Vale.” He stretched out his arms as if shaking off the exhaustion from the day’s walk. “Let’s get horses next time.”

“Halt! State your business!” A guardsman in polished armour says to the party as they approach the gate. The gate itself is twenty feet wide, and it stands before twenty foot high walls topped by guard towers. At the base of the gate, he smiles.

“We come to find a wizard, Curuvar. Also, we’re pretty thirsty from the long walk from Tordek’s Vale, and we’re looking for a place to have a drink or two. Know any good spots?”

Talk of drink pricks up the ears of this guardsman who laughs with joy. “There are two, actually. The one in the north of the town, near the docks: the Fisher Friends Club. And one in the south we call ‘The Tankard’. It’s got a picture of a green tankard over the door. Can’t miss it. As a matter of fact,” he looks back at the other guard, who nods. “I was just about to finish up my shift. Why don’t I show you the way? I could do with a drink before I go home to my wife. My name is Don, by the way.”

And with that, the guardsman led the way through the town, past the gatehouse, weapon shop, and a place labeled ‘Garwin’s Curiosities’. They reach outside the pub, and there is a general festive air about the place as merchants hawk their wares, people walk down the street drinking or talking, and performers play in the street.

An explosion rocks the courtyard, followed soon after by a second. Bits of mortar and wall fly everywhere as the city wall explodes inwards. Don is taken out by a piece of wall, and everyone but Moloch gets hit. As the dust clears, the party spots a mob of goblins raiding into the city.

“Great,” Thrax says, “I was really looking forwards to that drink.”

Moloch takes the initiative and calls down a pillar of fire from the sky. It explodes outwards, killing many goblins. Alistair follows suit with the ranged burst: using his +1 Rod of Corruption to place a curse on every enemy in sight. Meanwhile, Haunt ducks down and uses his newly trained healing skills to stabilise Don.

Amongst the goblins, two stand out in particular. A shaman stands at the back, urging his fellows forwards. And a bugbear strides triumphantly forwards. Tarrasol rushes to meet him. “Don’t worry guys,” he says, turning to grin mid-combat at his friends, “I’ve got a plan.” Whump. The light goes briefly out of his eyes as the bugbear brains him from behind and he drops to the ground stunned.

Thrax fully intends to aid him, but looks over and notices two javelins and an arrow sticking out of Alistair. He sighs and raises his hands to the sky, calling in healing energy. Alistair shakes himself off and gets back into the fight. As his cursed targets begin to fall beneath a concentrated onslaught, he teleports to the bugbear, then to the shaman, only to be blinded and held blind for a number of turns by the cruel twists of fate.

With no one left to heal, Thrax turns his attentions on the bugbear, and swings at it, trying to distract it enough to give Tarrasol a break. His swing seems to connect nicely with the bugbear, and it drops to the ground, dead or unconscious. “That works too, I guess,” he says.

The fight moves forwards to the gate, as the goblins begin to get pushed backwards. They drop one by one but seem to have the upper hand. The warlock, having teleported forwards to kill the leader, finds himself trapped away from his friends, blinded by foul sorceries.

“Teleport out of there!” Haunt worriedly shouts.

“I can’t!” Alistair panics. “I can’t see where I’m going!”

The goblin sorcerer, taking this as advice, continues to hex the warlock, who continues to swipe wildly at where he thinks his foe is. Only Alistair’s aegis of defence protects him, deflecting arrows and javelins alike.

The battle is going badly, and the party is low on energy and healing, until at last Alistair regains his sight, and Tarrasol and Thrax close on the goblin hexer. Constant rains of fire, and being stabbed in the back demoralises the enemies.

Finally, as Alistair stands atop one of the towers, morning’s sun framing his features into a silhouette, he shouts out a warning and a challenge to the goblins. He scares them so well that they immediately turn tail and run, leaving their leader alone and defenceless. The party makes short work of such a gooey target.

As the party recovers from their battle, they are approached by other members of the guard. The wizard, Curuvar, is among them. Yet they also notice, scuttling through the merchants’ stalls, a goblin. Tarrasol reaches over and grabs the small greenling. Through a series of tricks, intimidates, and actions, the party gets what information from him that they could.

He is part of a tribe which was hired by a woman to steal a ‘key’ from the city. This goblin was part of this group, which was told by their leader that they were ‘dah wermins’. Tarrasol has trouble understanding what the goblin means. Why did the leader in his thick goblin accent call his troops vermins? Then it all clicks.

“Guys, they weren’t ‘dah vermins’, they were diversions!.”

“But if this wasn’t their main strike,” Curuvar wonders to himself, “then… oh no.”

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Wolves vs Wolves
To Grandma's House

After discovering the portal beneath the town, Thedel, has pointed the party in the direction of a town named Suun and a Wizard named Curuvar. He also may be able to she some light on the Spell Plague book which Moloch found in Devlin’s Dungeon.

The party leave the safety of the walls of town and strike a path north east along the borders of White Wood. On the third day of their journey the path curves deeper into the forest. The party is attacked by a group of Dire Wolves. They slay them all and with the coming winter and the snow fall beginning they have the hides cured and turned into cloaks at the next village on their journey.

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